<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>something's got a hold of my feet by maddielle</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563560">something's got a hold of my feet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle'>maddielle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Texting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:55:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Andy [9:22 PM] – Nicky just got here.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Joe lets out a slow breath, cheeks puffing, and chuckles to himself.</i>
</p><p>Joe meets Nicky at a party through mutual friends, and sparks fly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>233</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>something's got a hold of my feet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from Moving In The Dark - Neon Trees</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe’s about half a block away from Andy’s apartment building, bottle of wine cradled to his chest against the February cold, when she texts him. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He curses and almost fumbles the bottle to fish it out.</p><p>              </p><p>
  <em>Andy [9:22 PM] – Nicky just got here.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Joe lets out a slow breath, cheeks puffing, and chuckles to himself.</p><p> </p><p>He’s known Andy about a year now. He joined her small yet prolific marketing firm as graphic designer after a long period of fruitless job hunting, and he hasn’t looked back since; his work family is everything to him. Currently, he’s on his way to possibly the tenth party he’s been invited to by Andy. Her partner, Quynh, is a bit of a socialite, a high-ranking lawyer, and she loves to host.</p><p>Joe never turns down an invite. The parties are fun, filled with brilliant people, free booze, and-</p><p>And Nicky. If Joe is lucky.</p><p>Nicky diGenova is an old friend of Quynh’s that he met briefly in a lightening round of introductions during the holiday season. He’d been dressed casually, a counterpoint to the flashy, tailored outfits of the crowd, and just a little tanned across the nose, possibly an old sunburn. While the group had chatted away, Joe’s gaze had, over and over, been drawn to the quiet man. Nicky had subtle confidence about him, bright eyes under hooded lids. Joe had left that evening with quite a crush.</p><p>He’d looked for Nicky at the next party, only to be disappointed. Andy had noticed.</p><p>“Doing okay?” she’d asked, joining him where he’d been standing alone by the wall.</p><p>“All good, boss,” he’d replied. “Just. Hoped someone would be here.”</p><p>Her eyebrows had lifted in interest. “Who?”</p><p>“Ah…” He’d scratched his chin. “Nicky? One of Quynh’s friends.”</p><p>Later, he’d caught Quynh in the kitchen.</p><p>“Oh, Nicky!” she’d said brightly. “Yeah, he’s neat. It was nice to have him back in the area for Christmas. He travels a lot for work.” She’d talked while arranging snacks on a plate with delicate, manicured hands. Her nails were always formidable and flawless. “We were in pre-law together.”</p><p>“He’s a lawyer, too?”</p><p>“No, he went overseas after graduation to do humanitarian work.”</p><p>Joe had nodded and not pried further until later at night in his bed when he’d texted Nile, his closest acquaintance from the office and another long-time friend of Andy and Quynh’s.</p><p>              </p><p>
  <em>Joe [11:25 PM] – I have a problem</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:30 PM] – ???</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joe [11:30 PM] – I met someone at an Andy party and I have a massive crush</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:31 PM] – Ooooooh. Tell me who, I can help, I know everyone they know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joe [11:31 PM] – Nicky diGenova...?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There’d been a long pause before her reply, during which Joe had worried at his lip with his teeth. Then,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:40 PM] – JOE</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:40 PM] – JOE YES</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:40 PM] – I absolutely approve, why did I not think of this before</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Joe had typed back frantically.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Joe [11:41 PM] – Plz don’t tell A and Q, no meddling needed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joe [11:41 PM] – Also… he likes guys?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:43 PM] – Idk how he identifies, but he used to bring a guy with him to the Andy parties</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:44 PM] – Like, as a date</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:44 PM] – Hasn’t in a while though</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Joe had smiled to himself, feeling like a teenager. Unfortunately, Nicky hadn’t been at the next couple of gatherings. Until now. Stomach aflutter, he texts Andy back.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Joe [9:25 PM] – No. Meddling.</em>
</p><p>              </p><p>He walks the rest of the way at a brisk pace, stops outside the front doors of the building when his pocket buzzes again.</p><p>              </p><p>
  <em>Andy [9:33 PM] – I won’t.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Andy [9:33 PM] – No promises about Quynh though.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Whatever happens tonight, Joe is sure he won’t easily forget, a notion cemented by how, when Andy greets him at the door, his stomach flips of its own accord at the smallest glimpse of Nicky’s shoulders far across the penthouse. Andy gives him a look when she takes the wine.</p><p>“I’ve got it under control,” Joe mutters.</p><p>“Sure thing. Can I get you a drink?”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>She hums, says, “I’ll make it a double,” and leaves him be momentarily.</p><p>After hanging up his coat, Joe spots Nile in the kitchen and heads her way. She has a circle of admirers around her as she talks, and he doesn’t blame them. She glows in a gold dress, her braids swept up off her shoulders. Upon noticing him, she smiles and reaches out an arm for him.</p><p>“Finally!” she greets him. Quieter, conspiratorially, to him alone, she adds, “Nicky’s here.”</p><p>“I am aware,” Joe sighs. His drink appears in his hand, and he takes a long sip. To Andy’s back as she breezes away again, he calls, “Thank you, boss!”</p><p>“Well,” Nile says. “You got a plan?”</p><p>Joe cranes his neck, peers through the thrumming crowd, sees that Quynh is seated on a low loveseat with her legs crossed gracefully, Nicky and two other people in armchairs nearby as they all chat politely. The spot next to Quynh is empty.</p><p>“Yes,” he answers. “I’m going to go say hello to my friend, and proceed to get to know Nicky like a normal, friendly party guest because I have no idea if he’s looking to date or even actually single and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Good plan,” Nile says, nodding. “Best of luck, my dude.”</p><p>Joe salutes her with his now half-empty glass and shuffles his way through the throng towards the open living room. When he arrives at his destination, Quynh beams, stands to hug him lightly, and pulls him down beside her.</p><p>“We wondered if the snow had scared you off,” she teased.</p><p>“It’s been five years,” he countered. “I would think I’d be used to a New England winter by now.”</p><p>Her eyes sparkle as she shifts and faces her companions. “Celeste, Nicky – meet Joe. He’s part of Andy’s firm.” Celeste, pretty and dark-haired, nods, which Joe returns. Nicky has a half-smile on his lips.</p><p>“Joe,” he says thoughtfully. “We’ve met before, yes?”</p><p>“We have,” Joe replies. <em>Oh, we have. </em>“Just before Christmas.”</p><p>Nicky nods, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “I remember.” He takes a quick sip from his glass, eyes never leaving Joe’s, and adds, “May I ask where you lived before deciding to brave the winters here?”</p><p>“I’m from the Netherlands,” Joe confirms, delighted that Nicky has taken polite interest. “I studied and worked in London after.”</p><p>“You’re in good company,” Quynh comments to Joe. “Celeste is from outside of Paris, and Nicky is easily the most Italian person in a hundred-mile radius.” Nicky snorts at her light jest, and the sound is endearing.</p><p>“Italian,” Joe echoes. “I thought I’d placed the accent.”</p><p>When Quynh turns away slightly to converse with Celeste directly, Joe leans his elbows on his knees and cradles his drink in two hands as he fixes his attention on Nicky. “Quynh mentioned to me that you travel a lot for work.”</p><p>Nicky brightens. “Yes, I do. Or, I did. Most recently in the Mediterranean.”</p><p>“What kind of work?”</p><p>“I was with the UN, supporting search and rescue efforts on the water for refugees,” Nicky says, and Joe is not surprised even a little. “I miss using my two hands for good over there, but there is a lot of policy work to be done to further the cause, so I am in the United States for a while now.” Then, “Tell about what you do, Joe.”</p><p>Joe learns more about Nicky as they talk and time slips by, partygoers milling around them. He worries in the back of his mind that Nicky might not appreciate being monopolized like this, but, anytime their exchange lulls, the other man pulls out another question, and they’re off again.</p><p>In addition to being a uniquely beautiful person, Nicky is warm and radiates generosity in a way Joe doesn’t often recognize in other people. He’s bashful, a little soft spoken, but quick and attentive, and he listens to everything Joe says as if every word matters. Joe knows he can talk a lot, and that not all that he says has equal merit, but Nicky’s focus never wavers.</p><p>Sometime around eleven, Nicky excuses himself for the bathroom and a refill, and Joe takes a moment for a deep breath before standing and returning to the kitchen. He comes across Andy, who exchanges his empty glass for a full one without missing a beat. He doesn’t really care what the drink is; all of her concoctions are tasty.</p><p>“Having a good evening?” she asks.</p><p>“Wonderful.”</p><p>“Looks like it.”</p><p>“Yeah.” He glances down into his glass and swirls it idly, ice clinking. “I’m in trouble.”</p><p>Andy pats his shoulder. “The night is young. Plenty of time for more trouble.”</p><p>“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, boss.”</p><p>“Ha.” Her eyes flick over his shoulder and she sidles away. “Make good choices.”</p><p>He shakes his head after her, and then turns, his back to the countertop. Nicky is making his way to where Joe stands, politely edging past other people, until he stands before him. Joe hadn’t really noticed what the other man wore before, in the dim light of the living room. Now, the dark cashmere pulled across Nicky’s chest just makes him want to touch<em>.</em></p><p>“Did I miss Andy?” Nicky asks.</p><p>“Just.”</p><p>“Damn.” Nicky looks at his empty glass, forlorn. “She makes the best cocktails.”</p><p>“Have mine,” Joe says, without thinking. At Nicky’s raised eyebrows, he hurriedly adds, “It’s a bit sweet for me. I’ll mix something else.”</p><p>Nicky’s lip twitches, and Joe thinks instantly that he’s fucked up. “Okay,” he says, however. He takes the glass, index finger brushing Joe’s. “Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem,” Joe says weakly. “So, uh. How many Andy parties is this for you?”</p><p>“Sorry, ‘Andy parties’?”</p><p>“A term used fondly around the office.”</p><p>“Ah, yes.” Nicky chuckles. Joe wants to hear that sound over and over. “Probably… fifteen, maybe. A lot, over the years. Ever since Quynh met Andy, and anytime I was in the country.”</p><p>“You must know a lot of their guests, then.”</p><p>“Most of them, yes,” Nicky says, scanning the gatherers nearby. “But. They’re not usually that interesting to me.”</p><p>Joe’s mouth dries a bit, and he regrets giving over his drink. He can’t tell if the comment was meant to be a flirt. He really wants it to have been a flirt. Then, Nicky glances back to him, and his eyelids have lowered a bit, and his free hand is casually in his jeans pocket, body relaxed and open, and Joe thinks: maybe, yes.</p><p>“For the record,” he replies. “I find you very interesting.”</p><p>Nicky smiles, swipes his hair back from his face in a self-conscious gesture, and says, “I’m glad.”</p><p>They head back to the lounge area together, but their old spots have been taken. A small couch is free, and they sit, angled towards each other. Joe’s face warms when he notices acutely that their clothed knees are bare inches apart. He’s a little buzzed and a little breathless and, for the life of him, he cannot look away from Nicky and his otherworldly eyes.</p><p>“I must admit something,” Nicky says later after some idle conversation, more quietly now that they’re closer.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I wasn’t going to come tonight.” He licks at his lower lip like he might be embarrassed. “But I had asked about you to Quynh after we first met, and she told me you would be here this time.”</p><p>Joe can’t help but grin. “I asked about you, too.”</p><p>The relief that dawns on Nicky’s face is genuine. “Yes?”</p><p>“Of course,” Joe says. “I was so curious about this beautiful man I’d met.” Nicky huffs, and Joe leans in with a gentle laugh. “You can’t tell me you don’t realize the effect you have.”</p><p>“I’m a bit out of practice,” Nicky says into his glass. “Not many chances to meet new people overseas.”</p><p>“You’re wonderful,” Joe’s mouth says before his brain catches up. “Would it be too forward of me to ask you out on a date?”</p><p>“Not at all,” Nicky murmurs.</p><p>They exchange phone numbers, Joe pulse quick in his veins as he takes Nicky’s phone, warm from his pocket, and taps in his contact information. It’s only after that that they realize the party has started to thin out, pockets of people remaining here and there. Quynh has taken off her heels and is rinsing glasses in the kitchen sink, Nile helping her out.</p><p>“Did you walk here?” Nicky asks, carefully.</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“Perhaps… I could walk you home? I can call a taxi from there.”</p><p>Joe is thoroughly charmed and thoroughly hopes Nicky may not need a taxi. One thing at a time, he tells himself. Outwardly, he nods and says, “I would love that. Shall we?”</p><p> </p><p>The wind has died down as they begin their walk towards Joe’s. It’s a still, cold night. Their footsteps crunch in the fresh snow. Joe’s glad he remembered a scarf; otherwise, he’d be picking ice crystals out of his beard all night. Beside him, Nicky’s equally as bundled up in a hat that looks like someone’s first knitting project and woollen mittens that make his hands look larger than they already are.</p><p>“Quynh mentioned you are an artist,” Nicky says. “Outside of work, I mean.”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>“Painting? Or sketching?”</p><p>Joe tips his head back towards the inky sky. “Bit of everything. I love to paint when I have the time to dedicate to a work. Otherwise, I’m happy with a pencil and paper.” Their jacket sleeves brush as Nicky steps around a chunk of ice in the sidewalk. “What about you? Any hidden artistic talents?”</p><p>Nicky lifts a shoulder, his coat rustling. “I like music. I taught myself to play guitar when I was younger.”</p><p>“Singer, too?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Nicky laughs. “Maybe. In the right company.”</p><p>It’s only another ten or so minutes before they turn onto Joe’s street. His apartment is on the corner in a four-storey brick building that creaks with the cold.</p><p>“This is me,” he murmurs.</p><p>It would be a polite moment for Nicky to glance at the building, comment on how nice it is, but he’s singularly focused on Joe. Since Nicky suggested the walk, Joe thinks it may be his turn to extend an invitation.</p><p>He says, “May I kiss you?”</p><p>Nicky’s expression softens. He steps a little closer and cups Joe’s elbow with a mitten. “Yes,” is his answer. “Please.”</p><p>Without preamble, they kiss quietly, warmly. Nicky’s nose brushes Joe’s cheekbone. Joe’s eyes have closed instinctively, but he peers through his eyelashes briefly just to catch the fan of Nicky’s on his pale skin, hums when Nicky takes his lower lip, kisses it, and pulls back barely an inch.</p><p>“I feel,” Nicky starts. He huffs, shakes his head. Fondly, Joe recognizes the crossed wires of a multilingual mind. “Is enamoured the right word?”</p><p>“Could be,” Joe muses. A little flake of snow lands in the sway of Nicky’s cupid’s bow, so he lifts his chin to kiss it away. After, Nicky takes a stuttering breath.</p><p>“I like you very much,” he says. “I want to text you tomorrow and see you again. And again after that, maybe.”</p><p>“But…?” Joe asks, when he senses Nicky’s hesitation.</p><p>“No ‘but’, really.” Nicky smiles. “I want that. I also very much don’t want to leave you now.”</p><p>Another kiss starts; this time, Joe lets his lips soften and he yields to Nicky with easy joy. That kiss melts into another, their tongues tentatively touching, and another, and then another. Joe absolutely does not want to stop, but he has a brief thought of kissing Nicky like this, except their coats are gone and they’re sitting on his couch, and he wants that much more.</p><p>“I’m trying to think of a polite way to ask if you want to come inside,” he breathes.</p><p>“Don’t be polite,” Nicky tells him. “Let’s go inside.”</p><p>That turns out to have been an excellent idea, because sitting in Joe’s living room in dim lamplight, coats and hats and gloves discarded, is instantly incredible. Nicky is so warm, his sweater is so soft, and Joe’s hands delight in being able to touch his shoulders and waist and chest as they move happily along into steady making out. He finally can nudge Nicky’s chin to the side with a thumb and mouth under his jaw. Whatever cologne he uses, or perhaps it’s just him, it’s clean and masculine, undeniably sexy.</p><p>Joe’s really hard in his jeans.</p><p>During a momentary pause, in which they catch their breath but don’t stop feeling each other, Joe leans his head on the back of the couch and catches Nicky’s eye.</p><p>“How are you?” he asks quietly.</p><p>“Very good,” Nicky responds, his accent lilting on the ‘r’. His hand spans the length of Joe’s neck. “Would you like more?”</p><p>“Absolutely.” Joe wonders what more means to Nicky diGenova. “Whatever you like.”</p><p>Nicky sucks his lower lip into his mouth, considering, and then arranges himself beside Joe so his hand is free to trail down his chest and stomach. Knuckles brush just above Joe’s belt buckle. “How about just this?” he murmurs.</p><p>Yes, yep, Joe thinks. “Perfect,” he says out loud, which is how he ends up sitting in the centre of his couch, his belt and pants opened, and Nicky’s slender fingers pumping his cock with such attention and care that it feels almost tender. He’s leisurely about it, learning the shape of Joe with each squeeze.</p><p>“You are unfairly gorgeous,” Nicky mutters, sliding his free arm around Joe’s shoulder. He curls them together and kisses him. “What do you like?”</p><p>“A bit tighter,” Joe whispers. “Slower, just- <em>Uh. </em>Yes, like that.” He likes a steady pace and a firm hand. Nicky catches on quickly.</p><p>They kiss wetly as Joe relaxes and enjoys and lets the sensations build. He doesn’t have to chase release; he can sense it approaching like a sure thing, inevitable, until all he has to do is breathe deeply and pour a low groan into Nicky’s mouth and feel the swipe of Nicky’s thumb across the sensitive head of his dick and <em>come.</em></p><p>Though he slows down, Nicky keeps his hand on Joe, eventually just holding him in the curl of his fingers as they continue to taste each other. After a moment, Joe pulls back and grins lazily.</p><p>“That was lovely,” he says into the tiny space between them, as if divulging a secret.</p><p>Nicky strokes his hair. “I’m glad.”</p><p>“Can I do something for you?”</p><p>“If you want,” Nicky says, lips curling up.</p><p>“I do want. Here, sit across me.” He nudges Nicky to rest atop his lap, thighs spread, shoulders looming. Now, Joe has his hands free and can feel up Nicky’s chest, back down to his waist, and under his top to tease at his hip bones. At Nicky’s encouraging nod, he undoes his belt and fly and pulls black cotton aside to carefully free his cock.</p><p>It’s a nice cock, Joe thinks distantly. A little curved, standing proud and smooth with clear wetness smeared at the tip. Nicky huffs softly when Joe rubs his thumb through it.</p><p>“Now,” he says. “What do <em>you </em>like?”</p><p>It turns out that Nicky likes to be stroked faster, lighter, though it may just be that he’s been worked up for a while. As Joe touches him, he wonders whether Nicky would like to be teased, perhaps kept on edge for a while. Denied and desperate and, damn, there’s a thought.</p><p>When his orgasm crests, Nicky’s hips twitch and he mutters a small, earnest, <em>“Fuck.”</em> It’s the first swear Joe’s heard come from him, and it’s indecently hot.</p><p>There’s quite a mess between them now, though luckily most of it has ended up on Joe’s front. Nicky doesn’t look much worse for wear when he redresses, except for a fading mark on his neck and mussed hair. Joe gives up on his own clothing, rids himself of his shirt and tosses it down the hall towards his bedroom.</p><p>“You are welcome to stay,” he says, to be polite.</p><p>As expected, Nicky smiles and shakes his head. “I must be in a meeting tomorrow morning,” he says, coming to stand before Joe. “But, perhaps after the third date?”</p><p>“Third date it is.” Their kiss lingers. “Are you free this week for a first?”</p><p>“Most evenings,” Nicky replies. “I will text you?”</p><p>“Please do.”</p><p>In not much time, a taxi is called and Joe is seeing Nicky out his front door with a kiss to the cheek and a final farewell. He closes his door slowly, reality still a distant thing, and has half a mind to check his phone where he left it in his winter coat pocket.</p><p>              </p><p>
  <em>Andy [11:51 PM] – Use protection.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nile [11:55 PM] – Have fun!!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Then, just as he’s typing a quick <em>mind your own business</em> to Andy, his phone pings.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nicky [1:19 AM] – How about Tuesday at 8?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joe [1:19 AM] – Sounds perfect</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nicky [1:19 AM] – :)</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>In the interest of getting some rest, Joe puts himself to bed, but he lies on his side and watches as snow falls silently outside for a long while. He can’t imagine any dreams he might have being better than Nicky, so he snuggles under his duvet and thinks idle, romantic thoughts long into the night.</p><p>Sleep must claim him eventually. He doesn’t notice, and, in the morning, he’s one day closer to seeing Nicky again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>can't stop with the meet-cute AU ideas, it's the quarantine brain talking :)))</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>